William Shakespeare

Sonnets

14

Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck;
And yet methinks I have astronomy,
But not to tell of good or evil luck,
Of plague, of deaths, of season's quality;
Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,
Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind,
Or say with princes if it shall go well,
By oft predict that I in heaven find:
But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,
And constant stars, in them I read such art
As 'truth and beauty shall together thrive,
If from thyself to store thou wouldst convert';
Or else of thee this I procrastinate:
'Thy end is truth and beauty's doom and date.'

 

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